The voices she heard were severely muffled. She couldn’t make out any words, but the volume and tone she understood as an argument. Jessica had been trained in paralanguage as a police officer and a correctional officer. She knew tones, cadence, volume, and expressions all fed into what was being said by the speaker. Unfortunately for her, she was missing body language as she would have understood in the form of facial expressions. She was also trained to detect lies by paying attention to these details. Maybe that chance would come and she could put her training and experience to the test, but for now, she was stuck evaluating her environment.
Jess began working the duct tape that was securing her arms behind her back. She was having a difficult time, so she decided to stand up and felt herself rise against the cold steel of the pole. On her way up, she felt what she thought was a bolt of some sort, binding two pieces of the column together. It was a little higher than she could reach, until she took a step forward and was able to raise her arms higher against the pole. Once she reached the bolt, she felt it had an octagonal head to it. She used the edges of the bolt to wear into the duct tape. Her body wriggled around for a time until she was able to free her hands.
Jess instantly reached around and attempted to pull the sock from her mouth, but she couldn’t get to it. The duct tape was wrapped tightly around her head and she couldn’t find the end. Jess could breathe and figured the mouth restraint could wait.
She began walking around the room, bumping into odds and ends. When she bumped into what she thought was a desk, she felt around for drawers and found a middle drawer filled with office supplies. She grabbed a pen and began trying to poke a hole through the edge of the tape that was wrapped around her head. She knew that would give a starting point from which to tear the tape. Her attempt was short-lived as she heard a metal on metal sound, resembling a lock being unfastened, from around the corner. A flood of light came pouring into the room from an opened door, revealing solid stone basement walls, floor joists on the ceiling, and barred and blackened-out windows.
Jess ran toward the light, which was around the corner. The first thing she heard was a man’s voice. Jess could see the light was coming from an opened door at the top of a staircase. She heard a man talking as she ran to the side of the stairs and into the shadows.
The stairwell was an open design, poorly made without a wall or railing. Jess still had a gag in her mouth as she prepared the pen. She took the cap off, revealing a ballpoint tip, which was sharper than the cap. She fixed it in her hand with the point of the pen facing down. Jess was preparing to hammer strike her captor using the pen as a shank.
“All right, all right! Calm down, Thomas!” the man yelled to somebody upstairs.
“Geesh, you guys are pushy,” he said as he started descending the stairs.
Jess recognized the voice. It was Scott, the annoying guy from Gorham. Realizing now that she had been suckered, she lay in wait.
Another voice came whipping to the doorway at the top of the staircase. “You had better get your act together before you end up dead, like the others,” the male voice said as the door slammed shut, leaving Scott alone in the dark.
Jess was in the dark again, but she knew her night vision was better than Scott’s. She was creeping around from behind the stairs and into line of sight of Scott. He could not see her and had his hands out in front of him. Scott was walking toward her, feeling for the light switch, which was hanging from the ceiling not too far from his location.
“How you doing down here?” Scott asked. “Are you awake yet? The plan wasn’t to take any prisoners, originally, but when I saw you, I had to have you. Hot chicks are hard to find these days.”
The man was inches away from the hanging pull string that would turn on the basement light. Jess had to act now while she had the advantage. She stood up and backed away far enough to start a good charge toward Scott. No sooner than Scott turned the light on, he was blasted with an attack from Jess. She had charged him and jumped onto him, wrapping her legs around his body. It all happened in one fluid motion. She would have sunk her teeth into his throat if not for the gag, so she utilized the pen in her hand, instead. Stab after stab, she sank the pen into his throat.
Scott struggled little as his attention was on the fact he could no longer breathe or speak. The first strike punctured his trachea, the third strike opened his left exterior carotid artery. Scott fell to the floor and Jess covered his mouth as she took the pen and ran it through his eye and into his brain. Scott went limp and Jess rolled away from Scott’s left side because of the blood still spraying from his neck.
She lay next to him only briefly before she collected herself and began searching his person. She found a holstered pistol and a sheathed Leatherman on his belt. She unlatched and loosened his belt and removed the two items and then attached them to hers.
Jess took just a second to look around at her captors’ basement. She swept the environment, once through, with her eyes, checking for weapons or any useful tools. She knew it would be a longshot, but Jess believed erring on the side of safety, and security was critical to survival. She saw nothing useful, worthy of carrying into an unknown hostile environment.
Now armed with a .45 S&W Governor and a Leatherman multi-tool, Jess quietly crept up the staircase, paying attention to creaking boards. Once she reached the top of the stairs, she unholstered her new revolver, checked the cylinder for ammo, and grabbed the door handle, listening for sounds from the room outside the door. Jess carefully turned the door handle and pulled the door open, just a couple inches, and listened some more. She was no longer hearing voices as she did before, and that made her fearful that her struggle with Scott may have been heard. She didn’t want to spend too much time waiting at the basement door. Her training taught her that hesitation can sometimes have deadly outcomes.
Jess was awkwardly pulling the basement door towards her, as she had to lower herself down the staircase a bit to make room for the door to pull open. She did this with one hand on the door and her pistol in the other hand, pointed towards the opened doorway. With the door now open, Jess tiptoed up the stairs, peeking around the corner, first left, then right. To her surprise, there was an M4 standing against the wall next to the door.
Keeping her gun pointed out the door, she used her left hand to reach out and grab the rifle. Successfully doing so armed her with a military rifle. She had seen M4s before, but this one was stockier than the others she had seen. It had an additional barrel under the primary barrel that she assumed was a grenade launcher. She was careful to locate the rifle’s trigger and not to confuse it for the trigger of the grenade launcher. She was untrained in its use and wise enough to avoid using weapons she didn’t understand.
Jess removed the magazine of the rifle and took note that the magazine was full. She pulled the charging handle to the rear about an inch and took notice that the rifle had one round chambered. Pushing the forward assist to properly secure the round back in the chamber, Jess took the rifle off “safe” and put it on “fire.” She noticed there was a “full auto” option, but she was fine, knowing she didn’t have enough ammo to spray in full-auto mode. Her training taught her that single fire is the most accurate.
Jess placed the pistol back into its holster then stepped out of the basement into what appeared to be an apartment. She boldly began clearing each room. That’s when the faint sound of men screaming and yells from the south window of the apartment were heard.
Jess carefully moved toward a window and tried to look out. The blinds were shut and Jess was hesitant to make them move. Nevertheless, she used her fingers to gently grab one end of one horizontal piece of the blinds and move it up and out of the way. Seeing motion below her, she saw several armed men running and walking down a southbound alleyway to a street running east to west. The crowds were piling up at the sidewalk where the alley ended and the east/westbound road met. The men had their backs to her, so she thought it good to check the north side of the apartment. She could see no mo
re movement and used this information to embolden her to find an exit on the north side of the apartment.
Jess was becoming frustrated the longer she searched. Eventually she found a door that led outside to a fire escape. She took the fire escape to the outside ground level and took cover in the alleyway, being careful not to alert the men to her south, who still had their backs to her. From cover to cover she moved northward, away from the action, with her M4 at the ready.
Jess knew she was in a very precarious situation. She spared no caution as she carefully moved through what she could now tell was a large town. She did not hear the sounds of children playing, nor the sounds of bustling traffic. She saw no people on the street, save those she’d seen running earlier. However, there were signs of life. She observed clotheslines hanging from building to building and potted vegetable plants that looked maintained but had no bloom.
Jess knew her luck would eventually run out if she didn’t find a place to hide until she could move under cover of darkness. She saw several vehicles sitting stationary along every roadway. She opened one door, unfolded the rear seat, and climbed into the trunk. She had determined to wait for night before doing anything else.
CHAPTER XV
The Posse had followed the bus’s last known direction along the train track headed northeast, through potentially hazardous woodland and past small settlements. The Posse knew the horses would be a good meal for anybody trying to live free of the governments control. Nathan and Denny, in particular, knew this area well. Nathan used to play on these tracks as a child and he knew where they led, and that put an uneasy feeling in his gullet. Denny knew the route because he took it regularly with a small band, by night, to fetch beef. They had passed that juncture now and Denny was in unfamiliar territory.
“Hold up here a second, guys,” Nathan said, and the Posse came to a stop.
“I need every one of you to be especially watchful in these parts. These tracks head straight toward the old town of Murphysboro. It used to be a thriving subdivision for college kids that attended Carbondale’s college university. But now, there’s no telling what it’s become. I’ve heard tales of cannibalism and raiding bands.”
“Perhaps we should hitch the horses and proceed on foot,” Denny opted to advise.
“I agree,” said Warren, a twenty-nine-year-old Posse member.
Warren had served in the Navy as an electrical engineer, but now, he served with the Posse as a veteran experienced with rifles and pistols.
As the group neared Murphysboro, they approached from the southwest side of town. They moved through the woods, towards town, until they located an old farmhouse. It was apparent that it had been ransacked previously. The group searched the house and didn’t find anything of much use. Denny did take notice of some spray-painted walls with graffiti that read “Southside Raiders.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Denny said.
“What’s that?” Warren said from the other room, as everybody rallied up on Denny.
They looked at the graffiti and wondered if they were going to have a problem with the band of raiders.
“We need to keep moving,” Nathan said.
They continued on alongside the railroad tracks. Warren saw the bus first. It was parked up ahead on the tracks. “Guys, look ahead.”
Nathan immediately gave the hand/arm signals to disperse left and right. The group scattered to the tree line on either side of the tracks and advanced forward until they reached the bus. Nathan gave the hand signal to remain still. He moved toward the bus, looking over the sights of his rifle. Once he had reached the bus, he carefully approached its side, where he entered the doorway and climbed the steps. There was no sign of Jessica or the weapons. Nathan exited the bus and gave the hand sign for rally on me.
The group joined Nathan inside the tree line and formed a circle, as if huddled to listen for instructions.
“Guys, whoever took this bus has our weapons and possibly Jessica. That means they’re armed and probably a large group.”
“What’s the plan, boss?” Denny asked, willing to follow Nathan anywhere he would lead.
“I’m going to move ahead, by myself, and scope out the area.”
“I don’t like that,” Warren said.
“It’s not your call,” Denny barked back. “I’ve been through the wringer with Nathan before, and he knows what he’s doing.”
“Whatever. I meant no disrespect, just concerned for his safety.”
“I’ll be fine, Warren, more fine than if we go as a group. It’s easier to move quietly and unseen when you’re alone. I’ll move ahead while you guys remain right here. I’ll be back within a time span of two hours. If I’m not back by then, head back.”
Denny knew what Nathan meant by “head back.” Denny had no intention of leaving Nathan alone. But he agreed with Nathan, as did the rest of the Posse.
Nathan made sure his weapons were locked and loaded, then stepped off towards the town.
After a few minutes of travel, Nathan stepped out of the woods and found himself in a park. He moved from tree to tree until he came within eyesight of State Route 149. From there, he used the cover of buildings and abandoned homes. He could hear somebody speaking by use of loudspeakers. He followed the sounds of the voice, up Route 149, to a horrific display of barbarism. Nathan saw UN and US soldiers hanging from streetlights and power lines at the entrance of the city limits. The UN soldiers were hanging by their necks and the US soldiers were hanging by their feet. This enraged Nathan, but he felt powerless against an unknown foe. He took a knee and listened to what was being said from the loudspeakers.
“NO LONGER ARE WE SLAVES TO A TYRANNICAL GOVERNMENT. NO LONGER ARE WE VICTIMS OF A NEW WORLD ORDER. WE LIVE LIFE AS WE WANT AND WE TAKE THE LIFE THAT TRIES TO HIJACK OUR LIBERTY. THESE SOLDIERS THOUGHT THEY COULD WALTZ INTO OUR TOWN AND TAKE IT FOR THEMSELVES. THIS IS THE PUNISHMENT FOR THEIR OFFENSE AND THIS WILL BE THE ANSWER EVERY TIME THEY ASK FOR OUR GUNS.”
Nathan had heard enough. He knew he was outnumbered and outgunned, even without seeing the size of his foe. He was unsure about leaving Jess behind, but he knew he had to get back to the Posse before they did something stupid. With that, Nathan backtracked to the Posse and spent the remaining hours of daylight explaining what he had seen and heard.
There was no doubt, they wouldn’t be able to waltz in, as he had heard the speaker say, but maybe under cover of dark, they could sneak in. The group discussed the possibility of sneaking in by night, but eventually decided that even if they did sneak in, they wouldn’t know where to go from there. Nathan agreed, but his heart was heavy. The group wanted to cut their losses and forget about the whole endeavor. It wasn’t that easy for Nathan. He was vested by having feelings for Jess, but wasn’t willing to risk the welfare of the group.
“There’s a flip side to this,” Denny said.
“What do you mean?” Nathan asked.
“We still don’t know if Jess stole from us or if she was taken, but that’s a moot point when you take into consideration the fact our camp has now been compromised.”
“He’s right,” Warren said. “If they know where we live, they can come back and take more.”
A whole new world of problems had just been opened up to Nathan. Now he felt that he had to head back and relocate the camp. He knew that would be no easy undertaking, but couldn’t ignore the possibility of an assault on the camp was extremely likely, especially given the numbers he expected the Southside Raiders to possess.
“I know he’s right. He usually is. Okay, we go back, reorganize, and relocate.”
Darkness was falling, and the Posse used that advantage to follow the train tracks back home.
Somewhere in Murphysboro, Illinois
Jess woke up in pitch blackness. She carefully lowered the rear seat that concealed her position and crawled into the cab of the car, from the trunk. She was unsure what town she was in until she saw a Highway 5 sign and knew she was in Murphysboro. She made he
r way, building corner to building corner, hiding wherever she could. The streets were alive with activity. Gunshots could be heard at random times along with screams of despair or pain. Jess tried to push the horrors of what was really happening out of her mind.
I need to focus on finding food , Jess thought to herself. She wanted to avoid going into living units, whether they be houses or apartments, for fear of not having the advantage. Eventually, she made her way to a small convenience store. The shelves were empty. There were no bags of food, no canned goods, no medicine, not even crumbs. Jess realized how bad things had become in the cities and small rural communities.
There was no order, only anarchy where no American could live free from tyranny. Even with an absence of government in this town, there was still tyranny. Jess had a realization that night. She used to think that their fight was against the government, because it had become tyrannical. Suddenly she realized her fight had broadened and become much more complex. Her fight was against tyranny, in all its forms. She now saw the same evil in the citizenry as she did in the government. It was suddenly real to her that the great war of her lifetime had just become a whole lot more complicated. Suddenly she felt smaller and her workload had increased a hundredfold. If America was going to be free, it would take more than replacing a bad government, it would take the changing of the hearts of man. Tyranny isn’t a political party, and a tyrant isn’t a bureaucrat. Rather, tyranny is the use of power to subjugate, and a tyrant is the man with a heart evil enough to do it.
Jessica was now seeing that tyranny had more than one form. She saw it in her capture, and she was now hearing the screams of the victims of tyranny. Suddenly, she could put a face on her enemy. It could be anybody and was made evident by their actions.
“Please, no! Please don’t. It’s all we have,” a woman screamed from around the corner. Jess readied her M4 and ran toward the screaming. She heard a man swearing in an aggressive, deepened voice. “Give me the bag.” A shot rang out and then there was silence.
Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1) Page 21